Sunday Paper
by Vaudeville
Summary: She really shouldn't have been there. But there she was and, as she sank to floor to peer in through the keyhole, there she was staying. -- Laurie spies on Dan having an intimate moment with an ugly redhead. Kink Meme fill. Slash.


Laurie couldn't quite get used to living with another man. A man who was _not_ Jon. A man like Dan, who was so clearly _not Jon,_ it was difficult to think about them both simultaneously.

Which then lead to Laurie having a pretty horrible filter on what she said.

She talked to Dan about Jon incessantly. She could tell that it bothered him but she did it anyway. She couldn't seem to help it and felt guilty for it, but then, it seemed that Dan did the same thing. Well not _exactly_ the same thing nor about who Laurie might have, but probably _should _have, expected...

So it really should not have been a surprise when she found them.

Dan was obviously a bachelor. He was both awkwardly very private and very open. It seemed for all his politeness and willingness to be near her, he valued highly his alone time. He did things by himself more often than not and when Laurie would idly linger nearby as she watched him work, she saw that Dan did things_ his _way, _by himself._

Which then lead to Laurie snooping around his impractically large apartment.

Dan didn't seem to mind when he found her in a place he had not yet introduced her to in his home, at least he seemed to mind it less than when _she_ found _him_ in a yet unintroduced place.

So she really should not have been there, seeing what she was seeing.

Laurie had to say that she didn't much care for Dan's choice of music. He seemed to listen to a lot of jazz and blues music that Laurie felt too young to appreciate, yet old enough to know was classical. Or _classy _at least. Laurie liked instead contemporary tunes she could find on any radio station if Dan _had_ a radio. And Dan had _his _music playing all the time.

Which lead to Laurie eventually learning to tune it all out.

So she really shouldn't have heard that moan early one morning, the one the sounded pained but eager, and the soothing gentle voice that she had come to recognize as her host's.

"Shhh. Keep it down or Laurie's going to hear," she heard Dan whisper.

Laurie couldn't help but wonder who he was talking to, what they were doing, and just _what_ exactly she wasn't supposed to hear.

She put an ear to the door just in time as the second, unidentified voice sounded again, a soft cry that transmuted into a gasp and then a drawling moan. With a hot flush and with the added timbre of Dan's moan, Laurie shyly covered her mouth with her hand, suppressing an excited giggle.

Dan was having sex with someone in there.

"Jesus, you're tight," came Dan's strained groan and a loud wet slap followed, joined by two separate vocalizations.

She really shouldn't have been there. She really shouldn't have heard. She really shouldn't have found them. But_ there_ she was and, as she sank to the floor to peer in through the keyhole, _there_ she was staying.

"Easy. Been a long time," sounded a the second, lower voice. Though Laurie couldn't distinguish much of the bodies on the bed, silhouetted in the faint morning light, she could at least identify that the strangers voice could _not_ have belonged to a woman.

And now, she just _had_ to see.

"_Ennk!_" somebody grunted, amongst shuffling movements and low groans.

_That's a curious sound,_ Laurie thought, grinning like a mad woman as she listened for more. She heard a whole array of strangled noises come out of Dan's partner, undoubtedly a man.

_Hunh. Mmnf. Aaanh. Hurrhurrhurrhurm. _

And Laurie's favorite, the one that made _her_ gasp quietly every time, was an open mouthed, "_Uuuhn_, Daniel. _Please!"_

And then that slap again, the telltale sign of a _deep, hard_ thrust.

"Yeah?" Dan growled, his voice taking a sick tone of confidence and rising in a patronizing pitch as if to add more to that, something explicit and vulgar, all implied in tone but lost on words that a man like Dan Dreiberg couldn't utter. Not comfortably at least.

Instead he took a handful of the smaller man's hair and pulled his head up from where it was buried into the pillows. They kissed roughly, lips hardly capturing the others for long as they were both jostled with the power of Dan's wildly bucking hips.

The sun was beginning to filter in through the windows of Dan's bedroom but it wasn't enough it wasn't fast enough, as those delicious slaps and open-mouthed moans and pleas and all the sounds of sex increased in frequency and pitch.

Laurie knelt, transfixed as she watched the massive silhouette that was Dan pounding into the much smaller one, pushing an arm down between his shoulder blades and flattening his chest to the bed, his ass still hitched in the air. Four shadows of hands groping and twisting in hollows of hips and sheets and god knew what else.

"Aww, fuck!" Dan cried as he gripped a slight, ugly, redhead by the shoulders and wrecked the poor man's body with his own, making him writhe and bawl out Dan's name as he came.

Dan threw his head back as he continued to plunge into his finished partner, his mouth opening wide as he moaned loudly, his body quaking as he choked on the name.

"_Rorschach!"_

Laurie's jaw dropped.

And she ran.

Sometime later, Laurie heard Dan's chatty voice in the foyer and she looked up from the book she was trying to pretend to _not _be too distracted to read, _I shouldn't have heard them. I shouldn't have found them. I shouldn't have seen. _

She smiled as Dan came in, receiving a genial smile in return. And she was really, _truly_ surprised when a man dressed as Rorschach walked in behind him.

She had half expected some shabby little nobody that Dan had paid to let him fuck and call by another man's name, but if his stink was any indication, this was the Real McCoy.

"So, uh," Dan started, offering Rorschach his hand, which the smaller man ignored, "Uhm. Thanks for the, uh... Y'know, the paper, Rorschach."

Rorschach nodded curtly, muttered a, "Thanks for the coffee and cereal," and then stepped past Laurie with a polite nod and a quiet, "Miss Juspeczyk," before disappearing down into Dan's workshop.

Laurie shuddered at the use of her proper surname and the way Rorschach pronounced it so precisely, in such a dead monotone. _He had inflected quite a bit upstairs, _she thought miserably. _And, God, the way he smells,_ Laurie lamented, making a face at Dan, who just smiled awkwardly.

Dan smelled the same way.


End file.
